


After the war

by Greiver_Dhark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Neville
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greiver_Dhark/pseuds/Greiver_Dhark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war was over when Harry left Great Britain, unable to stand the British wizarding world any longer. Now he's finally returning, to find that the world, and the people he'd left behind, have changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Longbottom secure home

Motto: 'Adversity makes us strong'

It had been almost six years since Harry Potter left Britain.

Not that his friends held it against him of course, they all understood why he felt he had to and he did try and keep in touch as best he could. But England had let him down too many times, had become a place he couldn't stand to think of let alone live in.

After the war it had quickly become clear that despite it all, the wizarding world hadn't learned a thing. The war he'd fought so hard in, the war that had taken so many of their friends and family, felt almost pointless. There were no winners, because they hadn't truly won. They had stopped Voldemort and his death eaters, but that was all. The problems that created them in the first place remained unchanged. The ministry was as corrupt as ever, and while anyone found with the dark mark (that had survived the fighting) had been put through the veil, there had been no further action taken in government otherwise. Nobody had put forward any changes, any preventative measures at all to safeguard against corruption or future dark lords. There was still a strong bias against anyone of less than pure blood, limiting their career options and rights and allowing the purebloods to keep their power and retain their superiority over others.

Basically, they hadn't learned a damn thing.

It was enough to make his blood boil; after all they'd done, all that suffering and the wizarding world had learned nothing. His efforts had been wasted on a society that for all its wonder, was full of lazy, stagnant beasts too self-involved to do the right thing or learn from their mistakes.

When everyone had looked at him to lead and guide them, to be the new Dumbledore, he knew that he had to leave. He wouldn't be shoeboxed into the role they wanted him to be in, wouldn't let them enslave him to their needs so they wouldn't have to think for themselves or handle their own problems. He didn't know how Dumbledore had done it, been there for the wizarding world whenever he was needed, almost single-handedly running the country in some ways, lest more people like Fudge take the important roles and fuck it all up.

Instead of all that, he'd traveled the world, learning magic he'd never even heard of with Britain's limited education. There was so much to learn, so much to live for, it filled the void in his chest that his home country had left him with, giving him drive and purpose, giving him the ability to enjoy his life again.

He'd rather thought he might never be able to.

After so long living in a tent with that blasted locket sucking the joy and pleasure for life out of them, he'd thought the world might remain that dark, dreary place it had seemed at the time. Leaving was the best thing he could have done; the world lit up for him once more, just like it had the first time he'd stepped into Diagon alley the first time, so naive and excited.

His only real contact with 'home' was the occasional post card or letter, plenty of photographs (sent after he'd left that particular part of the world, just in case they thought to try and drag him back). But he was careful with what he received as well, never taking down the owl ward he had on, that redirected all of his mail to a secure room to pick up every now and again. After the first year or so their understanding became layered with impatience, the Weasley's messages became filled with pleading for his return along with their well wishes. He could understand, really, but he couldn't return, and while they sent him plenty of letters he read very few of them. They spoke of how things were going back home, what was going on, but he didn't want to know, having seen more than enough before he left. He was sent more than just mail from his friends of course; every now and again there would be something harmful, and plenty of howlers went off without anyone ever hearing them. Stacks of mail from strangers arrived that he never opened too, congratulating him or condemning him, he didn't care to find out.

He did make a few brief visits though, slipping back into the country to witness the births and some important dates of his surrogate family, but he never stayed long and never gave in to their desire for him to return permanently. He'd spent his whole life until then doing what others wanted and expected of him, and he was finally going his own way, doing what he wanted and finding out who he was. He was doing what was best for him, for once, and he wasn't going to come back until he wanted to.

It was on one of these rare visits that he discovered that Fred Weasley was only half as dead as he'd thought; the prankster hadn't been able to pass on without his brother and had returned as a ghost. He wasn't the only one who'd come back less than alive from the war, though a great many of those who remained had stayed on only long enough to say goodbye to their families and make sure they were well, before passing on.

In the meantime, he was more than happy exploring different countries, learning different cultures and of course different types of magic. Britain had always been very limited in its education in recent years, the bigotry having a lot to do with that (they refused to hire an educator non-native to Britain). Frankly the more he learned, the more jaded he became regarding the place of his birth, as he experienced what other places were like. It wasn't perfect of course, nowhere was perfect, but it was a damn sight better than what he was used to.

In the aftermath of the war, money hadn't been an issue for Harry, and because of that it wasn't for anyone else either. He'd made sure before he left that the people he cared about were adequately taken care of. After all, lots of people had given everything to the boy-who-lived in their wills, and the same happened again once he defeated Voldemort for good; so many had died, money and properties, house elves and so much more had all been donated to Harry.

Since Harry considered defeating the Dark Lord impossible without the people who had helped him, he'd managed to argue his way to paying out what he could to those who could do with it. Luna for example, with the family printing press destroyed along with most of her house, could use the money. The Weasleys always could, and even Hermione, trying to make her own life in the wizarding world, would need some. It wasn't all money either - a few house elves had been sent to help the families of his friends. It wasn't entirely selfless, as House elves were loyal and powerful, they provided a measure of protection for the owners as well, something they could all use after the war, when it became clear that the ministry wasn't going to push for any positive changes.

Fortunately the goblins being given a chunk of the Death Eater's vaults had gone a long way to soothing their anger in regards to their break in, more because of the treasures held within rather than the gold, for once. Not all of it was dark or cursed either; Death Eaters were criminals and known to steal from the people they attacked if there was anything of value laying around, so there was some pretty nice stuff in there. Family heirlooms were returned to the families they belonged to, but anything else the goblins could take for themselves.

It was irresponsible for him to leave Britain when they needed him, he knew, though he'd done what he could before he left. Harry also knew he'd not been ready in the slightest for what was needed of him, the uphill battle of fixing the British wizarding world even as it refused to admit needing to change. Leaving had been best, but it had left the magical world in trouble, trouble that his friends had been left behind to try and sort out.

And they had, he knew that pretty much everyone left alive that had fought with him had tried to do something to fix the magical world. Not everyone had taken jobs in the ministry but some had, and those that didn't still spoke out against the way things were done and tried to change it from the outside.

Ron had made his dream and gone to work as an auror, and worked hard to bring down the remnants of Voldemort's dark supporters left in the ministry and anywhere else he could find them. It hadn't been easy working in the ministry after the war at first; the numbers were down dramatically and not everyone who remained were innocent, they'd simply not been marked, but he'd determinedly gone to work, vowing to bring the ministry in line with a firm hand as he rose up the ranks and used his influence to sort the place out.

Hermione went to work in the regulation of magical creatures office and set to immediately altering the laws regarding magical creatures, doing what she could to improve magical society as a whole and using the war as an excuse to prove that if their laws didn't change, the creatures would continue to flock to the people who promised them better, like Voldemort. With that in mind she'd been given a fair amount of freedom, if only because she was almost single-handedly doing all of the work by herself, starting with setting up werewolf sanctuaries for the weres at full moon.

Even the twins were brought in to help at one point, as Ron managed to convince the new head of the DMLE to implement a 'practice run' for what few security features they'd put into the ministry, mostly to prove how insufficient and ineffective they were. The twins had been hired to find weaknesses in the ministry defences as if they were hostile forces, but using non-harmful methods. They'd been given leave to prank the hell out of the ministry of magic and everyone working there, something they'd made full use of. It had more than effectively proved that the defences in place were not only lacking, but not properly understood and used. There was no point putting in anything at all if nobody used them, after all. (The beginning of the war of the badge began at this point too, as the given reasons for visiting the ministry became more and more outlandish by the 'invading force'. From Icelandic hockey players to human-nifflers intent on taking shiny things, they easily pointed out the need for improvement from the get-go and began a competition over the most outlandish badge in the meantime, a competition participated in by most of Harry's friends.)

Ginny had been torn between leaving Britain with Harry, and staying at home with her family. In the end she was gently let down by the 'Boy-who-lived'. The status of their relationship wasn't something he was ready to deal with and after all that had happened, neither were ready for it. How could they be with eachother when they'd both changed so much by the war? They had to figure out who they were individually now, before they could consider being with their partner who was also no longer the person they'd thought they were. But after a year of him being gone, she began a relationship with Terry Boot, a survivor of the attack at Hogwarts who had bravely fought by her side in the melee.

With so much rebuilding needing to be done, there was plenty of work for the citizens of magical Great Britain. The older Weasley boys had all had a hand in rebuilding Diagon alley alone, and Bill in particular had a lot of work as people needed properties and workplaces re-warded. Percy had worked for Fudge long enough to know where everything was, including the secrets and problem areas, and while it had taken him a while to leave his family to get back to work there, he'd certainly put his information to good use in the meantime.

There was something very defining about being in the war. It was more so with the children, the people who shouldn't have been there but were, whose home had been invaded and taken over. Those that had participated could never return to being the children they'd been before, could no longer quite understand the people who'd hidden away in their homes, or been almost entirely untouched by war. They'd all experienced something profound, had been changed by it.

So going back to how things were wasn't an option for them. It went so far as to be an insult, even, to be treated like children and told to return to how things were after everything that'd happened.

Harry wasn't the only person to leave Britain after the war, nor was he alone when he didn't return within a year. After the events of the war though, he was by far the most famous wizard in Britain and there would be no peace for him if he stayed. Especially as the wizards celebrated and sought to return things to how they were, seeking him out to place once again on the pedestal. He ran from his fame, from the people who cared not for him but only in what he could do for them, but others left simply because they could no longer bear to stay in the place they'd lost so much to. The war with Voldemort had wiped out whole family lines, and left others, like the Potters and the Boneses, almost extinct.

When he finally did return, it was quietly and without remark. By now he was used to slipping in and out of Britain, and could usually get in and out before anyone but the people he visited even knew he was there. His new found skills were certainly used to his advantage as some weren't recordable by the ministry and allowed him to enter the country undetected.

There was plenty for him to do though; while he still owned Grimmauld place it wasn't particularly inhabitable and so he'd bought a small house the muggle way and hidden it using magic. Nobody in the wizarding world knew he was back for some time before he finally made contact with his friends once more.

-

After the Second War, Neville had felt elated but also rather lost. The battle was over, but it was hard to see it that way. Some Death Eaters had escaped, most sympathizers had been left without punishment, and there had been so many losses. The funerals had lasted just over a week, back to back, and people had still been finding bodies of their loved ones for weeks after, some had never been found at all. Lord knew what the DE's had done to them.

For a while, he'd been an auror with Ron, tracking down and locking up a few of the escaped Death Eaters and ensuring that the corruption that had been rife was stamped out. He was one of a few trusted individuals to do so, while the ministry was entirely overhauled and worked through, there weren't many who could be trusted to do the job, and even fewer who were still alive. Many graduates had taken similar roles, many of the DA had helped out in the rough time until things settled and they went on their way.

At one point he'd gotten together with Luna, though it didn't last for too long. The pair of them had been a good match during the war; both very different and overlooked, both bravely standing against the Death Eaters and both becoming targets because of it. After a while though, it was clear their interests weren't aligned and while they remained good friends, Neville had returned to Longbottom manor, his own manor now as his Grandmother took one of the smaller estates, finally handing the reigns to him.

He'd taken his place as Head of House Longbottom and fought his way into the political arena, doing what he could to fix things there but Neville was a man of strength, and while he could be subtle he was no political snake and as hard as he fought, there was only so much he could do. Sometimes he felt like a solid pillar in the Wizengamot chambers, a pillar among soft, weak men who stood for nothing but their own benefit and whimsy.

The war was over and there was so much to do, it was easy to bury himself in work. The wizarding world had been taken down to its knees and the rebuilding left a lot to be done and there was so much that other people wouldn't do. He took a job as the herbology professor for a while, working on his own projects and clearing the last of the wild plants that he and others had used as weapons in the war, and just before it.

He remembered fondly leaving plants like devil's snare and fanged geraniums outside Death Eater sleeping quarters, and around the perimeter of the school for the dark lord's followers to fall prey to. But it hadn't satisfied him; when things had settled down, it became clear that he wasn't needed any more. Everything went back to how it was before- better, but still just like before. He was overlooked again, returned to the background. It wasn't intentional; everyone wanted to get on with their lives, settle down and recover, with some going out to fix things but Neville thrived in the hard times, he'd grown standing up against monsters and now that they were gone, he felt lost again, a force pushing one way, but with nothing to push against.

So he'd taken up creating an orphanage. He wasn't the only one to have the thought about all the orphaned children of varying ages, but most people only cared about the victims of the Death Eaters, and Neville saw past that. No longer influenced by house rivalries, he had seen that the children of Death Eaters had been as much victims as everyone else, yet few had the compassion to give them. Neville did. He also had the strength and desire for a challenge, and they had certainly been a challenge.

So while he felt a great sense of loss at leaving Hogwarts as staff this time, he'd found himself a better cause. Taking in the kids nobody else wanted; the troubled children, the unwanted and the children of Death Eaters. He'd heard the story of Voldemort, and of Severus Snape, and he knew that a stable home would have gone a long way to if not help, or even stop, those people from ever going dark, they would at least have someone who knew, someone keeping an eye on them. It had been beyond difficult- still was, years later. There was never a lack of 'trouble children', especially muggleborns.

One of the things he'd heavily instigated and enforced while a Hogwarts professor was child safety. Too many times had the school overlooked their duty of care to the students. Too many times had kids been sent back to abusive or neglectful homes, or orphanages. Now, many of those students came to Neville, or to another orphanage if they were better suited to it. But they were taken care of, and that was what mattered. Now, if someone would say something like Neville had, years back, about being dropped off of Blackpool pier and nearly drowning because of a family member testing for magic, it wasn't ignored.

So it was no surprise that his manor had some big fucking doors on the front, as much to keep out vengeful citizens seeking any link to a Death Eater they could find, as it was to keep the little monsters in. The land was heavily guarded, particularly by innocent looking plants all along the way. They were better spies and guards than he could ever be and far better than hiring any human guards; Neville wouldn't trust most wizards to tend to his plants, let alone his kids.

The knocking on the door was unexpected though. Almost nobody came to adopt these children, they were here for life, and since it was school term, a bulk of the kids were at Hogwarts. Only the younger ones remained, or those recently graduated but with nowhere to go. He helped them as best they could to become self sufficient and move out, but didn't hurry them to leave. A few had stayed, particularly the older of the DE's kids, who still were met with hisses in the street if they went to Diagon alley, and struggled to find work or housing for themselves. They stayed and taught the younger kids- it gave him more free time and it wasn't like he was running out of space.

Opening the heavy doors with ease, Neville met the stranger with a smile on his face and wary look in his eyes- and his wand in his hand, hidden behind the door as he pulled it open. "How can I help you?" He asked in a steady but surprisingly light voice, considering his fairly sturdy stature and taller frame.

End Chap 1


	2. The return

Begin Chap 2 

Title: The return

 

“Hey Neville, it’s been a while.” The voice was certainly familiar but the face wasn’t immediately so; the tanned young man in front of him wasn’t someone he recognised, at least not at first. The bright green eyes, unobstructed by glasses of any kind and the black hair, shoulder length and fairly neat, did not register to him at first, before he realised just who was in front of him. 

“Harry...?” Neville couldn’t hide his shock; he’d not seen the infamous boy-who-lived since he’d left six years ago. He’d sent mail and received a little too, but whenever Harry came to visit he’d always been busy with the orphans. The one time they’d almost crossed paths, at Dominique Weasley’s birth, he’d been abruptly called away to deal with a situation at Hogwarts and so missed him. “It’s good to see you mate.” He pulled the other Gryffindor into a hug, then continued pulling him inside the house. 

“Well, not that’s it’s not bloody nice to see you Harry, but what brings you here?” Neville asked, a touch confused though no less pleased. His friend had never come to see him specifically, not since he’d left Britain entirely.

“I’m moving back to England.” Wasn’t what Neville expected to hear but when he did, he gave the slender ex-seeker another hug, eerily reminiscent of Hagrid as he did so. “That’s great news Harry, it’ll be good to have you back.” He still sounded a bit shell shocked but seeing his friend after so long and hearing he’d be returning for good, well, it was enough to shock anyone. 

Laughing good-naturedly, Harry let himself be pulled inside, looking around curiously. He’d never been inside Longbottom manor before, the only ancestral manor he’d really been in was the Malfoy’s, unless you counted Grimmauld. (He didn’t, since it had always been such a state, and was more of a house than a manor.) 

When Neville had collected himself, he was happy to lead the way to one of the parlours. “Did you want some tea Harry? When did you arrive?” As he spoke a tea set appeared on the table between two chairs, though the house elf that delivered it remained unseen. “Thanks.” Harry replied as he sat down, pouring himself a cup to his tastes. “I got in a few days ago actually, but I had to secure myself a place to stay first.” He had refused to be an imposition on any of his friends in his visits before now, so it was no surprise. “Grimmauld is still pretty uninhabitable I’m afraid, not that I’m sure I’d want to live there anyway.” He admitted from behind his teacup. 

“I can understand that.” Neville nodded, still drinking in the sight of his old friend. Harry had sent pictures every now and then, but seeing him in person, a grown man now in more than just mind, was still odd to Neville. The burly Longbottom was on the receiving end of similar looks; they’d both changed a great deal, and more than just physically. Neville had developed into the Lord he was, exuding control and authority, and a ‘don’t mess with me’ confidence that was impossible to ignore. Harry on the other hand seemed far more at ease than Neville had ever seen him, as if at last the once boy-hero was comfortable with himself. Going away certainly seemed to have helped him a great deal, just as staying had helped Neville. 

Seeing how well Harry looked though, he couldn’t help but be glad his friend had left, now. He’d always tried to be supportive but he had missed his friend and wouldn’t lie; he’d been angry that Harry had gone after a while, angry that he’d not been there for Neville, even though he understood. He didn’t think he would be able to stay with the way the Wizarding World was acting either, indeed he’d certainly considered leaving himself numerous times. After a particularly vicious attack on one of the ex-death eater kids, which was almost dismissed out of court because ‘the child clearly deserved it, given who he was’, Neville had actually considered relocating Longbottom Manor out of the country. 

Still, as much as he was glad things had turned out well for Harry, and indeed for himself too, he still wished he could have been given the chance to do it with him. To be trusted enough to at least know where he was, in case Harry ever needed help. They were as close as brothers, and yet both had spent the last six years completely apart.

“Neville...I know this is going to sound a bit wierd, but what is it exactly that you do?” Harry asked after a pause, setting down his cup of tea and looking pretty sheepish. “I mean, you don’t talk about it in your letters and the Weasley’s don’t really talk about you much. I get the impression they’re not too happy with whatever you’re doing but whenever I’ve asked, they’ve refused to say anything negative either. Hermione seems pleased and disapproving at the same time, which is weird, and she wouldn’t say a word either.” Rather than be offended, Neville just looked faintly amused. He wasn’t too surprised; people had certainly struggled to say anything pleasant about what he was doing in the beginning, and had certainly mouthed off about him before he’d brought the might of his Lordship down on them. The Daily Prophet had been forced to retract several comments and publicly apologise, and the end result was that if people could say nothing positive about his orphanage, they were to say nothing at all. 

“I run an orphanage for troubled kids.” He answered simply. “Its sort of strange really; this place is as much a castle as it is a home.” It certainly looked like a manor, but if you knew what you were looking at it really was more akin to a fort. “After the war was over, everyone was so happy.” Neville explained quietly. “People were finally able to recover, to rebuild.” He sighed. “Everything seemed to be going so well, until I saw a young boy in Diagon Alley being pushed around and ignored. I recognised him from Hogwarts, he was only a first year, Slytherin, but his parents had been Death Eaters. He was an orphan, but the orphanage wouldn’t take him because of who his parents were.” 

Neville’s tone remained light, even as Harry frowned. He wasn’t surprised if he were honest; the Wizarding world continued to let him down and he should have expected them to do something like that. People could be so shallow and cruel, and the people of Britain had shown a strong unwillingness for equality – they liked having groups of people who were worth more or less than others, it seemed.

“After that, when I went back to Hogwarts for the rest of the year, I started paying more attention to them. The Slytherins had it pretty hard as it was but it rarely got too out of hand, but these kids were in all the houses, and very few people wanted to be friends with them, or associated with them. It was easy to pick them out really.” He sighed heavily. “After that, it was pretty easy. I used my power as a Hogwart’s professor to speak with them, and soon enough I had a half dozen very troubled kids staying at my manor because it wasn’t safe for them elsewhere.” It had certainly been a rough start. 

Enraptured by the story, Harry leaned back as Neville paused to sip his tea, frowning. “I can’t imagine that went over too well though, knowing the ministry. They really let you just pluck up those kids?” 

“Oh no, not at all. They tried to stop me of course, tried to make it seem like I was in the wrong and would just get myself in trouble, associating myself with them. I came down pretty hard on them though, ‘ruthless’ my Gran said. I’d already made myself a bit of a force in the Wizengamot, so it wasn’t like I was unprepared. I turned the whole thing around on them, nearly got them into trouble for allowing such prejudice. They actually admitted that we as Wizarding citizens should cast them away, that it was alright to shunt them out and ignore them, leave them to die. I wasn’t too happy about that.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Harry sounded horrified as he said it, but shook his head. He really shouldn’t be surprised by now, he knew how horrible the wizarding world could be, especially those with power. “I guess thats why your manor feels pretty threatening.” Harry told him with a grin. “It looks all manor-ly and stately, but it feels...stern.” He cricked his neck, and Neville looked interested; few could feel that sort of thing, let alone be aware of it. 

“I’ll show you around if you want.” He offered warmly, a bit of his old excitement showing; he really was proud of this house and rarely received friendly visitors. “You’ll probably find it really interesting.” The way he said it piqued Harry’s interest; it sounded very mischievous, the same as when he’d admitted to leaving some pretty vicious plants around the Carrow’s living quarters. Having finished his tea, Harry was more than happy to set down his cup and stand, to Neville’s laughter, wanting the tour now. He’d never expected so much from his fellow Gryffindor, not in an offensive way but he’d never really thought that this was the man Neville could be. He’d seen so little of his friend since Hogwarts was under the Death Eater leadership, he was pleased with what he saw but it was so unlike the Neville he knew, he continued to be surprised.

Standing, Neville was amused to note that he was only a little taller than his old friend now; Harry had gained some height and seemed to be at a decent weight. It was strange in a way, to see him in such good health considering the state he’d been in during the end of the war and aftermath before he’d disappeared. Neville himself hadn’t been in great shape himself either, but he could have done well to lose some of that weight anyway, though he could have done without the torture.

He cleared such thoughts from his head as Harry followed him out of the parlour, openly tapping his wand against the second exit so that Harry wouldn’t be automatically blasted back to the entrance hall. “The house is pretty booby trapped.” He admitted shamelessly. “So just stick close to me and don’t touch anything, just in case, alright?” He smiled at Harry and the Chosen One grinned back at him in amusement as Neville began his tour.

“Longbottom Manor has always been pretty well defended.” Most old houses were of course, but Longbottoms were known for being staunch in their support of the light and that had made them targets. They were also known as being stubborn battle axes, and while they were light they were also a line of fighters, and their home was well defended. Neville had learned from his parent’s mistake and avoided the fidelius charm, relying on their own defences once again. He wasn’t a man who hid, he was a man who fought to defend.

“People who aren’t keyed into the wards can’t get past the first few yards of the house.” He explained. “People who have ill-intent or are tainted by dark magic can’t get onto the grounds at all, but even those who can are severely restricted. The guests who are invited through the front doors then can’t get passed the entrance hall or visitor’s parlour. That’s why I had to let you through the second door.” Harry bobbed his head in understanding as they walked slowly through the hallway, looking around with interest.

“The whole place is massively warded and very well defended. Half the stuff in here comes alive or isn’t nearly as innocent as they look.” He shared a dark grin with his Gryffindor friend, and Harry wondered what defences exactly the stately building hid. “The rest of the manor is more open though, since there are so many people who live here. I’ve had to tailor the wards extensively though; a bunch of Death Eater kids, and just troubled kids in general, well, it can get pretty hairy.” Harry could only imagine; he knew enough about how hard to deal with Death Eater kids could be, what with Malfoy and his posse causing trouble all through their school years. He had to wonder though, if this could have been his home had it been available when he was a boy, had he been anyone other than Harry Potter. He’d certainly been considered a troubled boy in his youth, getting into all kinds of fights and messes, and he hadn’t been wanted in his home. It was a strange thought, but not a displeasing one. 

“Suffice it to say, the wards can knock them all out flat, or dump everyone in their rooms and all sorts if I need them too. They’re focused just as much on the kids who live here, as the people who would visit.” Certainly not normal for most households; it was considered invasive to say the least, but everyone knew that especially for the more dark families, entering their home could put them under some wards that they would really rather not be under.

 

“The kids are monitored pretty closely of course,” Neville told Harry, showing him through the foyer and towards the dining hall. “Wands in particular. Only supervised use of magic before wand-age, and once they get their wands, I have them linked up to a parchment in my office that records every spell they cast and alerts me if it’s an offensive spell. I take it off when they graduate, mostly.” The herbologist grinned. “Some of the kids need more work than others, more attention and I can’t trust them so much so I’m always pretty careful.” Wizards, given the proper motivation, could be pretty innovative after all so he had extensive wards and security enchantments to monitor what went on with his charges and on his property. Very little slipped by him. 

“It started off rocky, for sure. At first I’d just send it along when I came across a student at Hogwarts that wasn’t safe at home. It was right after the war ended and I was only eighteen, but a teacher to boot. It was only after that I found out what was going on with the Death Eater kids and the other troubled ones at the orphanage, it wasn’t pretty let me tell you.” He shook his head; they were dark lords and ladies in the making and had been shunned, to say the least. 

As he spoke he led them through the wide hallways and into the dining area. It was set up somewhat like Hogwarts was, with rows of tables, but instead of four long ones there were only two, with a couple of smaller, circular tables lining the walls. The kitchens were just through the door at the end and there was another door opening into a smaller eating area, for use during the summer months when the number of inhabitants dwindled greatly. 

“That was when I really started putting plans together for the orphanage.” Neville continued jovially. “I was already living alone in the manor, and I’d gone a bit mental the summer after seventh year, making it into a veritable fortress to keep out any of Voldemort’s remaining supporters and helping the ministry catch them. A few tried to take down some of us before the aurors caught them, I think a couple were caught at the Bones’ place too, but we never got a certain number. I think some of my bushes ate a couple though, for a while I’d find scraps of cloth and loose shoes by the west gate.” He didn’t sound bothered by that in the slightest. “Speaking of, avoid the west side entirely. Some of the plants there ingested a potion Luna was working on to allow them to communicate with us, but instead it’s just made them eat anything that’s dark. And I don’t mean good or bad, if you’re wearing dark clothing, don’t go near it.” 

Sitting down at one of the smaller tables, Neville gestured for Harry to sit and moments later a serving tray with tea and biscuits popped into existence between them. “I have a small fleet of house elves.” He admitted with a grin. “Don’t know what I’d do without them to be honest, I can see why Hogwarts has so many. There were a lot going for sale after things settled down; anyone with the Dark Mark found on their arms were put through the veil, and their possessions stripped from them.” He explained. Harry nodded along, interested for once. Neville had a way of speaking that was far easier for him to listen to than most people. 

“So I snapped up as many as I could for the manor,” Neville continued. “Longbottom manor only had one house elf left and it wasn’t doing so well, plus the two you gave me and I knew Gran would move out eventually so I gave her one and our old elf, took the rest to fix up the manor. The plant protections need a lot of maintenance too so I needed the extra help. Turned out to be a good move; now I’ve got a couple of dozen kids living here I’d not be able to do all the work myself.” 

He sipped at his tea before setting the mug down again, leaning forwards in his seat. “The Weasleys’ got two I heard.” Neville told him. “One stays in the Burrow, but the other belongs to Ron and Hermione. She’s went nuts over it at first, but then she started teaching it all sorts of things to prove that house elves were intelligent creatures and should be given rights and all that. Interesting experiments actually.” He admitted, popping a biscuit in his mouth. “I think Ron was upset because she used him in the comparison, said something like how Tinker, the elf, was more intelligent than he was at that equivalent age.” 

Harry grinned, easily able to imagine that conversation. As much as he’d seen the sexual tension between them, Harry never could have imagined that they’d really stick together; years of being the buffer between them had proven that they couldn’t stand each other all that much really. Still, not only were they together but they were happy and far more balanced people than they were at school, from what he’d seen. 

“Well, anyway, that was just the beginning of the magical creature reforms. I tell you one thing Harry; the wizarding world is full of idiots, but most people learned pretty quickly to do whatever Hermione wanted them to. They dug their heels in at first, but she’s been dragging them toward progress ever since she finished school, and she’s got enough friends to protect her from being slapped down for it.” So many people might have died in the last battle, but so many people had gotten stronger from it too. Having fought so hard, they’d refused to just take it when the world told them to go back to the flawed way things were. Harry could definitely get behind that – honestly he was surprised and impressed that his friends had managed to achieve such things, not to mention how they continued to fight for what was right.

“The manor hosted a lot of strangeness after things started to heat up with Hermione. I felt like I was a bit of an embassy actually; all kinds of magical creatures came to the manor to try and help her out. This was a bit before I turned it into an orphanage proper, but it was well known the defences, and it was also well known that getting a hold of Hermione was pretty difficult. So a lot of creatures came here, looking for sanctuary. I hosted a bunch of werewolves at one point, that certainly tested the defences of the manor and its grounds.” Harry couldn’t really imagine it, but he could certainly remember how up in the air everything had felt at the end of the war, how people had wanted to fix things but others just wanted to pretend it never happened, to go back to treating people the way they always had. 

“I even had goblins staying here for a little while.” Neville laughed and Harry had to as well; it was difficult to imagine. “Not for long mind you, and thank Merlin for that, but they were a bit screwed after what happened at the bank. There was a fair amount of damage and Voldemort caused a lot of destruction, not to mention the civil situation we had going on in the ministry. They really weren’t happy, though they never really are, really.”

“It sounds like an awful lot has changed.” Harry spoke up thoughtfully, picking up a biscuit from the tray and nibbling at it. “I tried to ignore what was happening here for the most part – after the struggle we were having against the magical people, I just couldn’t stand it any more. I’m glad to hear that some things have changed, even if it was such a battle.” Bringing civility to society was the first step to making them behave like civil people, but it had to have been such a struggle. “I’m sorry I left all that on the shoulders of my friends.” Harry set his teacup down. 

“I don’t blame you Harry.” Neville told him seriously. “The way the public treated you, the things people wanted from you, thought they could get away with? I got a taste of it myself – reporters trying to break into my house, writing anything they liked, and people just not giving a damn. We’ve made some progress to stop shit like that but it hasn’t been easy, or pleasant – and I only had a small taste of it compared to the flack you were getting.” 

It was a relief to have Neville’s forgiveness, his understanding – perhaps that was why he’d come here first. His friend had become a stalwart defender but at his core was the loyal young man he’d known all through Hogwarts. Coming here meant he that the first step back into Britain was met with genuine happiness and interest. As much as he loved his friends, he knew that if he’d gone to Ron & Hermione instead then he’d be met with some aggression, not to mention an ‘I told you so’ and that wasn’t how he wanted to be welcomed back. They would be happy to see him, but he didn’t want the pressure that the couple brought to bear. Instead he would do this at his own pace, with confidence – not with contest from his own friends.

The pair were interrupted any further conversation by the sound of a shrill wail. Rather than seem perturbed, Neville just sighed and set down his teacup so Harry remained seated. It was only a moment later that a house elf walked in leading two small children behind it. The elf made a sweeping bow to Neville, poised and proud, before standing to attention by the door. The two small children, looking to be around five or six years old, merely trotted up to Neville – a little boy with blonde curls hurrying ahead in tears while the slightly taller brunet boy dragged his feet. 

Neville didn’t hesitate in plucking the sniffling child up and plopping him into his lap, where said boy continued to whimper and whinge much to the other child’s derision. “There there Simon, that’s enough of that now. Why don’t you tell me what’s got your so upset.” He coaxed. 

It didn’t take much for the little boy to spill out the whole tale – of how Cygnus had pushed him to the floor and hurt him, how he wouldn’t share his toys. Strangely the child didn’t wail about it being unfair, despite that being the sentiment behind the little boy’s attempt to play with Cygnus’ toys. Harry couldn’t help but notice as well that the whole while, the culprit remained silent and await his turn – didn’t try and butt in or make a fuss despite the surly expression he wore.

Turning his attention to the brunet boy, Neville gave him a nod and his full attention. “Simon stole my charm.” Cygnus stated, angry but keeping it restrained. 

“I didn’t steal-!“

“Hush Simon, it’s his turn to speak.” Neville’s reprimand was sharp but gentle, and while the boy in his lap pouted unhappily he did do as he was told. A moment later the Gryffindor gave a second nod to the young man before him and the tale resumed.

“He had gotten it away from me and was fiddling with it on the floor. I tried to take it back from him but he wouldn’t give it, so I pushed him over and took it then.” The little boy jutted his chin out a little in defiance, arms folded over his chest.

Nodding in acceptance, the young Lord turned to the house elf still stood further back. “It is as they says Master.” The creature squeaked. “Little master Cygnus pushed little Simon to get this back.” The elf raised a skinny hand to show a small cube that fit in it’s palm. 

“Very well then.” Neville set the little blond boy to his feet, pushing stray curls out of his face. “Simon, what do you say to Cygnus for taking his cube? You know it isn’t yours to touch.” The child pouted and whinged, refusing to speak up. As Neville repeated his name sharply though, the little boy turned to the other and apologised unhappily. 

“Cygnus, while I do understand that Simon had taken your heirloom and wouldn’t give it back, it wasn’t appropriate for you to push him over. You could have called for myself or another adult or a house elf such as Mindy who was just nearby. Because of that, I’d like for you to apologise to Simon.” The boy gave a huff but did so without hesitation, and his cube was returned to him afterwards. “Alright now, off you go the two of you. Its just about time for your writing lessons anyway.” 

The trio departed and Neville shook his head, chuckling once the boys were out of earshot. “Sorry about that. There’s still a fair few kids here, only the little ones and graduates though thankfully.” It was definitely strange to see, but hardly a bad thing. “Cygnus has that cube – it’s a family heirloom and he’s only allowed to have it because of that. Simon is a muggleborn though, and doesn’t understand or respect magical objects – or the ownership of said magical objects, obviously.” He shook his head.

“Muggleborn?” Harry asked in confusion. “I thought your House was an orphanage for Death Eater children?” 

“It was to start with, but I take in others too, if they need it. Troubled children no matter the source.” It did pose a slight risk – DE kids had been exposed to some iffy stuff, but no child of his Household was untroubled – even little Simon.

“You mentioned the older children earlier too.” Harry commented thoughtfully. “How does that work out? I mean, you’re only a few years older than them right?” 

“Yeah, there’s not much of an age gap.” Neville agreed. “But honestly it doesn’t really matter so much. What’s important is asserting dominance and control over them first – age isn’t a factor. The kids just need to understand and accept that I’m in charge and they follow my rules. Getting that through to them can be tough, you can imagine trying to get someone like Malfoy to accept that he’s not the boss? It is doable though, and once they accept that my word is law then things get a lot easier. It helps that despite my age, I’m not like a kid. Seen too much to seem like one either.” He had the aura of a war veteran, and once the children realised that their petty power plays were so beneath him as his power was so great, things settled down.

“It sounds a bit strange, I know that. There’s a reason why nobody else has managed to rehabilitate these kids.” That was what he did, after all. “Mostly because people don’t realise they have to. They don’t know how to get through to them, but I do.” Neville shrugged. “It was easier in some ways for the older kids though – while they knew more dark magic and had been more affected by their homelife, they also knew what await them without me providing them protection and shelter.”

Harry could understand that – no doubt many had felt like they didn’t have much choice, and while Neville appeared to be a firm hand, he kept them safe and gave them hope for the future.

“You might see some of the older kids around the manor.” Neville told him. “Some still live here, or work here. You might even recognise a couple from the years below us at Hogwarts.” Whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing had yet to be seen though. 

“Some of them work here? What do they do?” As far as Harry was aware there wasn’t any work to be done in a manor, though he supposed this was hardly a typical manor.

“I’m only one man so there’s only so much I can do on my own.” Neville explained resignedly. “But hiring tutors I can trust with these kids is no easy feat, and those I find tend to get driven off by the more problematic kids. Having the alumni, so to speak, really helps me out and helps them out too. Most of the older ones are children of Death Eaters and they have a hard time getting hired. Taking them on as tutors works for all of us and isn’t too bad either; the DE kids tend to have etiquette lessons and all that sort of stuff that serves as good training and preparation for Hogwarts. We serve as a sort of preparatory school too I suppose.” 

There was still a lacking of that, particularly muggleborns were still left without magical guidance before they went to Hogwarts. Considering a fair number of those kids ended up with either him or the other orphanage, he supposed it wasn’t all without hope. Maybe eventually there would be a proper pre-school for the students, because Merlin knew not all magic-raised kids were ready to go to Hogwarts either. Ron wasn’t the exception to the rule, there were plenty of magic-raised who couldn’t write essays or anything of the sort, and Hogwarts was the first organized schooling they had

“It sounds like a really good thing you’re doing here Neville.” Harry sounded so genuine and heartfelt that Neville looked up in surprise. People usually felt rather differently when they heard about what he did – and who he did it for. Taking care of Dark children was a thankless job for the most part. “It sounds pretty tough though.” 

“Enough about me though – what about you Harry? Any plans now that you’re back?” Neville asked, and was amused when his friend rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh, not so much really.” Harry admitted. “I felt like I was finally ready to come back, but didn’t really give much thought to what I’d do when I got here. I had to find out what had changed first.” He had a few plans, but nothing solid or long-term. He was inspired by what Neville had done though, and felt like he should take a look at some of the properties he owned and see about doing something useful with them. He’d have to look into it; he’d inherited an awful lot too, and for the last years he’d just had house elves maintain them all. 

“Though, if you need land or housing, let me know.” He chuckled. “I’ve got way more than I know what to do with – so if you have any ideas, throw them my way. Otherwise I’ll end up speaking to Luna next and Merlin knows what sort of suggestions she’ll have.” Harry groaned, causing Neville to snicker at him. “You’ll certainly get some suggestions from her.” They’d undoubtedly be strange though, but sometimes the best ones were. 

“I think I’ve taken up enough of your time for now though.” Harry said, standing. “I still have a lot of people to see, and there’s only so long I can put it off before I risk them finding out and getting angry at me.” He said wryly. 

Offering a sympathetic smile, Neville nodded understandingly and stood. “Well, feel free to stop by or ask if you need anything.” He offered. “I’ve keyed you into the wards so you’re welcome any time.” It was a rare privilege, having access to the manor completely. “Let me show you out. You apparated from past the gates right? I can show you the apparition point on the grounds. Now you’re keyed in you’re safe to use it.” 

The apparition point turned out to concealed within a mass of vines. They parted before the two of them, revealing a hexagonal stone on the ground. Harry stepped forward onto the stone, mindful of the vines around him. “Best you don’t try bringing along any passengers this way.” Neville suggested. 

“Yeah.” Harry said, looking up at the vines above him where they created a living cave surrounding him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Shaking his head, the boy-hero smiled and waved at his friend before he disappeared in a soft crack of displaced air.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This originally started out as something very different, so it might be a bit confused; I don't have a beta but I have done my best. That's why the summary was a bit tweaked, and I'm not too set on the name. I've got a second chapter in the works but I can't promise anything; my writing is patchwork at best and I tend to have trouble making a complete chapter. Either way, I hope you enjoy this and hopefully I'll get more done.
> 
> Also, if you're a flamer, do at least try and be original. Criticism is appreciated but try to be gentle; I'm doing this to improve but I'm no pro. Let me know if there are any problems or typos you see though, and I'll try and fix them.


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